The Girl with the Glasgow Grin

This is the first poem I've written in six years. I'm not sure why I felt so compelled to write this. It's dark, but it has deep personal meaning to me.
This is the first in a collection of three.

I see the monument in the distance And a blossom blooms in my brain. My feet stop dead in their tracks, Omniscient of the lots around them. January shivers down my spine, Unlocking a memory I want to forget; But I see her face every-time. She has no name. They call her The Girl with the Glasgow Grin.

My heart beats heavy When I think of her. I see her: Her laugh, her fear, her plea; A life clipped short. But they don't care; She's a present to them, a mystery wrapped in enigma, Just as the Wolf-Man sent. She is more to me, a part of me. Why? Why do I feel this horrific bond? I never knew her. I never knew The Girl with the Glasgow Grin.

My eyes haven't tricked me, time has. I see her there, lying among the clumps of brown grass, Arms beckoning in false exaltation, Her dreams eaten by weeds. The curls of her black petals, Burnt wisps in stagnant air. Warm skin melted to ivory; Translucent eyes turned opaque. They rejoice at the sight of her, the Fiends! This is all she is to them: The Girl with the Glasgow Grin.

They like to gossip And libel her. She's the gutter w*****, the flashy escort, the exotic temptress. She's divided, stem cut. The flower preserved in perversity, The roots tainted by noir. But I see her unscathed: Sweet. Kind. Naïve. Lost, trying to find her way. What have they done to you? You are more than what they have made you. You are more than The Girl with the Glasgow Grin.

I know the truth But I am just one. I can't stop them. They won't listen. They need only what the Wolf-Man has given. I want to tell her it's not her fault. I want to tell her it's okay. But she can't hear me; She's a memory now, Silenced in a world where she can not speak, Can not feel, Can not cry her liquid tears. What about me? I come back to myself. I should be moving on, yet I linger So that I might catch a glimpse Of The Girl with the Glasgow Grin.

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Thank you for the compliments. Although the inspiration I had for this poem is within my dark place, and I don't really like spending time there if you know what I mean. I wrote this for release, so I might be able to spend less time there.

Incroyable! Excellent! I was awestruck, truly, I was. This is quite an incredible bit of work you've done here! Love the vocabulary. Love the imagery. Love the amazing way you characterized the entire poem. The whole way through, I felt like I could reach out and touch it. You've done an amazing job with this poem.

Ahg! This reminds me of something........ and it is gone. I can't shake the feeling, though, that this mirrors the style of another poet I've read. I don't know why I can't put my finger on it, I haven't read many poets with a dark style like this so it should be easy.

I can't say I understand much of your poems metaphore(but then, perhaps, there isnt one), but I do love the style, the words, the raw emotion it displays and manages to incite even without me fully comprehendin... (more »)

Perhaps Edgar Allen Poe? I've had many people come to me and make that comparison after they've read this, although I did not purposely try to mimick his style.

And yes this is my favorite poem of mine because of how convoluted and enigmatic I was able to make it. This one, has also the most personal significance for me, which is why I folded the words so carefully to protect the meaning. Each line in this poem has alot of weight behind it, Which is why I think most people don't like ... (more »)